Come Away With Me
by thesayitagain
Summary: Jane brings Lisbon to his island for a somewhat delayed vacation/honeymoon. Jane/Lisbon.
1. Chapter 1

This is all pretty much because I've become somewhat obsessed with the thought of Jane showing Lisbon around his island and then this suddenly became the one idea I couldn't let go, forcing me to reacquaint myself with my writing. It's been a very long time since I've even tried writing something other than college papers so please, bear with me. I'm thinking this will be ~3 chapters. A lot of fluff. Feedback is of course greatly appreciated.

Also, as I started writing, I noticed I kept referring to them as Patrick and Teresa which I found quite odd since I pretty much always think of them as Jane and Lisbon. Oh, well. First name basis might not be too out of line - they _are_ married, after all. And on that note, I am also very much enjoying Jane (See! He's so Jane!) calling Lisbon his wife. WIFE. Can you believe it? I still can't.

Come Away With Me is from Norah Jones' song with the same title. I thought it was quite fitting.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist, nor do I own these characters. This is strictly non-profit.

x x x

The beach looked precisely as he remembered it. The sand stretched itself mile after mile after mile and the waves rolled in towards the shore, rhythmic, roaring. A little further away, the sand made its way to rocks where, occasionally, the ocean would hit and stretch further up to the sky before once again crashing down and reverting into waves. The sea foamed up, turning crystal clear blue into white, right there, against the rocks on the beach. As far as the eye could see, there was not a cloud in the sky.

He stood barefoot with rolled-up black suit pants, a blue shirt that clung a bit to his skin and unruly hair with curls that got caught in the wind. His eyelids were closed but his lips were turned slightly upwards, as if he was far away in his mind but thinking of something that made him smile, content. The sound of the sea, the feeling of sand between his toes, the beach that burned under his feet. It was precisely as he remembered it.

It had been fairly sudden, the feeling of wanting to come back. When Patrick Jane left South America one day in September to come back to the US, after two whole years, he believed that he left the island he'd come to think of as his - his small village with a post office and well prepared morning-eggs, warm ocean and Hispanic children with a penchant for magic - for good. It was a chapter so far from the rest of his life. A chapter completely devoted to trying to heal, to once again become a whole. The result hadn't been as great as he'd hoped; apart from a vest he no longer wore and new island inspired prints on his shirts, he was basically the same man. He tried to turn the page, move on, let go of grief and guilt and revenge. When he returned to the US, those first months made it painfully clear that he had not succeeded. He was still hiding his heart away, still holding on to the past, still wearing the ring that had been put on his finger many years before, a _lifetime_ before. As it turned out, he had not needed an island to heal; he'd only needed an almost missed opportunity, a whole lot of courage and most importantly - the woman he had built his life around for a very, very long time.

He had not thought he would ever get the feeling of wanting to come back.

However, that was when he was not yet married, before he had been gifted with the great knowledge that he of little less than nine months would be a father. Suddenly he'd had a strong desire to show off everything he had built up in hopes of letting go, show off where he had spent two significant but oh-so-insufficient years of his life. He wanted to do everything he so desperately wished that he had the power to do then. He wanted to take her there.

When he'd told Teresa that he'd wanted to go on a bit delayed vacation/honeymoon - on a beach no less - she'd first approached the idea with some grumpy morning skepticism.

"I wanna go away with you", he had said early one morning a few weeks after they had promised to forever love and cherish each other. He'd murmured the words against her neck, just behind her ear. He'd rested his hand around her waist, her back pressed against his chest where they'd lain together in bed in Teresa's house - the one that never really had the time to become theirs until a new one was in the early stages of being rebuilt. His fingers had touched her stomach absentmindedly, something he had made a habit since the day he'd become both a husband and a father-to-be.

"Hmm?", Teresa had said, sleep still present in her morning voice.

"I wanna go away with you," he'd repeated, nuzzling her neck.

"I thought we decided we'd wait with going anywhere, with the house and the baby", she'd murmured against the pillow, still half-asleep or at least wishing she would've been.

"I changed my mind", he'd replied. "I want to enjoy spending time alone with my wife, only you and me. Sleeping in, exploring the world, eating splendid food, drinking Piña Coladas - virgin, that is, for you." he'd said with a grin. "Beautiful sunsets, gorgeous beaches," he'd trailed off.

"You know I hate beaches." She was still lying on her side, his hands drew patterns on her still flat belly, evidence of what was inside so far primarily in their hearts. And in the ultrasound picture they had put up with a magnet on the fridge a week before.

"With the place I have in mind, I was hoping you wouldn't protest so much", he'd said.

"Hmm", she'd replied. "Where would that be exactly?"

"I was thinking", he'd began and made a short pause before he gave voice to the thoughts that had been buzzing around in his head since he woke up a few hours earlier. Like many times before, he'd dreamed of beaches and of her (only nowadays the images in his subconscious were a lot brighter than those before) and when he'd woken up he'd realized it mustn't only be a dream any longer. "What if we went to my island?"

At this, Teresa had turned gently around in his embrace until they were face to face, nose to nose. Emerald green eyes met crystal blue. "Your island?", she'd asked, her voice soft as velvet. "In South America?"

"Yeah", he'd said. "I've been thinking about it. I'd like to go back, just this once. And I'd like to enjoy it. Completely. With you." It took a few seconds but then her lips turned upwards, taking in the weight behind his words.

"I'd like that very much", she'd answered in between kisses.

What he had not told her was how much he suddenly had an urge to make this incomplete chapter in his life complete. He wanted to take the opportunity to blend his past memories of his island with new ones, with the one thing that made it incomplete the last time. Her. _Her, her, always her_. Instead of remembering how the experience of a sunrise felt while standing there alone, he wanted to remember how it felt doing it together. Instead of loneliness; togetherness.

After Teresa promised to take some - he thought - well-deserved time off and go with him, it only took nearly half a day for Patrick to arrange the rest. He beat her talking to Cho to ensure the FBI would not crumble without her presence the forthcoming week (which had annoyed her to no end and he'd been forced to make it up to her with a homemade dinner of her choosing, a devilishly good chocolate cake from her favorite bakery and countless of foot rubs), he ordered airline tickets, actually used a honest-to-God computer to find a hotel that seemed to be satisfying enough to both of them. Meaning: a hotel including both a comfortable bed and room service for her, nearness to the beach for him.

One year ago - heck, even a couple of months ago - he never thought he'd be back.

A lot had happened in the past year he'd never thought he'd be free or lucky enough to ever experience. For the first time in twelve years, he could love unconditionally and without bounds. He'd got to experience how it was to love and be loved by Teresa Lisbon, to wake up with her in the morning and fall asleep with her at night. He now knew her favorite brand of toothpaste, how hot she liked her showers, the way her hair looked sprawled out on her pillow, how her body felt under his hands. He'd had the honor of making her his wife and the thrill of knowing she would soon become the mother of their child. Things he hadn't even dared to wish for, before.

Standing with his feet in the warm sand and with a head full of futures and pasts, he was too occupied to notice a couple of footprints in the sand behind him. With her hair in a messy bun, dressed in a long flowery dress, Teresa took the last two steps forward to reach him, to put her hands around his waist. Her fingers crept along his blue shirt and her cheek pressed against his shoulder blades.

"Hello there", he said, voice raspy.

"I was wondering where you went", she said. "The hotel room was suddenly very empty when I got out of the shower."

"Sorry", he murmured and covered her hands with his larger ones, resting on his chest. "Just wanted to see the beach."

"This yours? The one you kept telling me about in your letters? Where the surfing and the swimming with dolphins thingy took place?" she wondered and he felt her lips turn upwards against his back. In that moment, he was immensely relieved that the thoughts of his letters so far on this journey had only brought her smiles.

He smiled along with her. "Not quite", he answered and turned so he could watch her face. "Well, it surely is the same. But I lived a little further South, just a couple of miles." She stepped away from his back and stood alongside him, watching with interest where he pointed with his hand.

"How come you didn't want us to stay there?" she asked.

He looked at her sideways and grinned. "I didn't think you'd appreciate my old, rustic apartment and creaky bed, mint-on-the-pillow-gal that you are."

That earned him a soft slap on his shoulder, although she was smiling, not bothering to hide her ever apparent amusement at his teasing. He laughed. "I am not that bad!" she tried to defend herself, voice rising slightly.

"That, my dear wife," he grinned. "You are."

"I want to see it, though", she said, suddenly turning serious._ I want to see where you made tea, where you spent your time swimming in the ocean, the place you went to talk to people who you understood, understood you. I want to see the place you wrote my letters, where you said you missed me. The place you spent two years out of my reach._ "I want to see all of it" she clarified. There was a slight pause before she went on. "Isn't that what you wanted to show me anyway?"

His smile was blinding, shining almost as brightly as the sun. "Come on", he said and took her hand.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thank you so much for your kind reviews, favs and follows! I hope the continuation won't disappoint. For me, it's been absolutely liberating actually getting to decide that _yes_, Jane and Lisbon do kiss in the midst of lying in bed and talking about important things (even if it never happened on screen quite like that). They're also back to being mostly Jane and Lisbon for the time being. Hope it's not too confusing. Oh, and the Spanish is completely thanks to Google translate so please forgive me for any potential mistakes.

x x x

There were many places situated in the small village where he wanted to take her, show her, watch her experience first handedly at last. However, they both insisted the first stop would have to be a place for them to eat. So far in Lisbon's pregnancy, the morning sickness hadn't been too much of a hassle. The bumpy airplane ride to the island had however lured out the nausea and after a shower and change of clothes, Teresa was definitely in the mood for lunch. Since Alfredo's bar was one of the places Jane wanted to show her, the choice of where to take her for lunch was simple.

"This was one of the places you came to often, wasn't it?" Lisbon said as they made their way towards the bar, remembering letters of breakfasts at the beach and tales of Roger, the elderly English man who was always present in those moments.

"Yes", Jane confirmed. "Alfredo makes the best eggs in the village."

"Well, you of all people would know", Teresa said amusedly, stealing a glance at her husband walking by her side; eyes bright, looking as anticipatory as she'd ever seen him. They walked together, Jane guiding her through a patch of greenery with the hand on the small of her back. The path led down to warm sand and the side of a light wooden bar, sun dried palm leaves on the roof. The tables on the deck in between the bar and the ocean were practically empty except for an older man at the far end, reading a newspaper and occasionally petting a stray cat that had set up camp at his feet. Behind the bar stood the barkeeper. When Jane and Lisbon came close enough to be visible, he noticed the pair instantly. His eyes lit up at the sight.

"_Señor_ Jane", he exclaimed, beaming at the couple. "You are back!"

Jane grinned towards him, reaching over the bar to meet him in a handshake. "Alfredo!" he said, shaking his hand eagerly. "How've you been, my friend?"

"_Bueno, bueno_", Alfredo answered, matching Jane's grin. His eyes soon drifted swiftly towards Lisbon and Jane didn't fail to notice.

"Alfredo, I want you to meet my wife Teresa", Jane said and looked at her affectionately. "Teresa," he said. "This is Alfredo."

Lisbon matched the two men's smiles with one of her own and outstretched her hand. "It's so nice to meet you", she said.

"You too, _señora_ Jane", Alfredo said and then turned back to Jane. "My my, _su esposa es hermosa!_ How you manage?" the man said with a grin, positively surprised that his ever lonely but ever nice American customer had found love.

"It surely is a mystery", Jane grinned back.

Always eager to please, Alfredo asked what he could get them _en este_ _buen día_.

"I trust you remember what I like", Jane said, referring to how he'd stuck to the same food at Alfredo's ever since his second week at the village.

"No coffee still, _señor_?" Alfredo said, partly disappointed, partly amused.

"No", Jane smiled. "My wife drinks coffee as it would be water, however." He caught himself. "She won't have any today, though, I'm afraid."

At this, Lisbon rolled her eyes. He'd been trying to control her coffee intake ever since he found out she was pregnant, insisting she'd quit cold turkey while Lisbon didn't see the harm in having at least some, once a day. (Decaf. Unfortunately.) "Oh, it's only one cup, Jane. I'm pregnant, not fragile; one cup isn't going to harm me _or_ the baby."

Before Jane had time to argue, Alfredo chimed in at Teresa's words. "You pregnant?" he exclaimed without hiding his obvious surprise - and delight. "Ah,_ felicitaciones_! Life really turned itself around, _señor_ Jane, sí?"

"In the best way possible", Jane answered with a bright smile, keeping his eyes solely focused on Lisbon, making her blush slightly which only made Jane's smile grow wider. Alfredo studied the couple for a moment and then clapped his hands together, announcing that the food was on the house. "I also make you scrambled eggs, tea with milk for you and coffee for the _señora_, how that sound?" Alfredo asked in his broken English.

"Thank you", Jane said warmly. "You're a good man."

Jane and Lisbon took a seat at a table overlooking the ocean and the boats that had been dragged up on the beach, the waves crashing towards the shore serving as background sound to their lunch. Lisbon were inclined to agree that Alfredo did serve delicious eggs and she enjoyed her daily cup of coffee immensely while Jane was delighted everything was as he remembered it. At the end of their lunch his eyes drifted from her face, where they had lingered all throughout lunch, towards the bar behind her. He studied Alfredo while he was chatting with one of the locals on his right and suddenly, Jane felt as if he had, in the midst of happiness from bringing Lisbon here and experiencing this together (_togetherness, not loneliness_), missed something important.

"Alfredo", he exclaimed, capturing Alfredo's attention immediately. "_Dondé está_ Roger?" he asked in Spanish, asking where Roger was.

Jane and Lisbon both watched as Alfredo's face fell, watched as shadows crossed over his features. He stopped what he was doing, took a shallow breath. "He is dead", Alfredo answered and Jane was far from prepared from the dark waves that he felt washed over him.

"What-", he began, falling silent to try to find the words. "When?" he settled for when he didn't know what to say.

"Months ago", Alfredo answered. "One day he was sitting here", he pointed to the end of the bar where Roger had always sat, every day for the two years Jane knew him. "And the next, he is dead." Suddenly, the spot looked ghostly vacant.

"_Lo siento_", Jane murmured and Lisbon reached over to squeeze his knee, her eyes searching for his. "I'm so sorry", she said when she found them.

"I'm fine", he said, turning yet again towards Alfredo at the bar.

"I'm sorry", he said to Alfredo, this time in English. "You must've known each other well."

Alfredo shrugged at this. "Life goes on, _señor_ Jane."

And shouldn't he know that better than anyone. Life goes on. It goes 'round and 'round in circles until it doesn't anymore, until it suddenly takes two steps back, forces you two steps forward, instead moving a clockwise direction for a while until this ends as well. Life is a circle until it isn't but it always goes on, one way or the other. Hopefully, possibly, towards better things.

Jane looked at Lisbon, keeping his eyes locked with hers, remembering his better things. "I'm fine", he tried to console her.

"Jane-" she said but was interrupted before she could continue.

"I'm fine", he insisted. "Let's not get into this now. We're on vacation. Honeymoon, even. We're supposed to be looking at the bright side, remember?"

While Lisbon easily saw through his attempt to straighten things over, hide away what he was really feeling, she did agree with him that this was not the place nor the time. It had taken a lot of time, was _still_ taking a lot of time, but she had started to actually believe that if he didn't tell her something right away, it was now because he was saving it for a better time. Not _not_ telling her, but simply choosing when. Which was hopefully not very far into the future.

And they _were_ supposed to focus on the bright side.

She had promised him.

"Fine", she agreed, squeezing his knee again, hopeful that she was letting him know everything she felt she couldn't say at the moment.

He offered her a smile and she took it, grabbed onto it with both hands.

"Well then, _señor_ Jane, what's next on our exploration tour?"

x x x

It turned out, the next thing on their made-up-as-they-went itinerary, was a stop at the _plaza_. Jane brought Lisbon to the post office to show her where he sent her letters and the two women, still holding down the post office fort at all times, were positively delighted that the handsome but tragically alone _señor_ Jane wasn't at all lonely anymore. When Jane proudly announced the pregnancy with his amateur Spanish, Lisbon found herself bombarded with chattering questions and touching of her almost-not-showing-baby bump. Amazingly content with everything surrounding her not-yet-born baby, she took the women with ease, answering the questions she understood and letting them feel her stomach. Occasionally, Jane chimed in, mostly with compliments regarding Lisbon because he found himself wildly addicted to what the compliments gave rise to - a slight blush and private smile.

After a while, however; when Jane sensed an overwhelmness slowly radiating off Lisbon's body, he decided it was time to sweep her off to another place. In Spanish, he thanked the ladies at the post office and Teresa followed him out while saying their goodbyes.

"That was intense", she reflected, when they were out of ear shot.

Jane grinned. "I think they were quite overwhelmed themselves. I'm pretty sure they always thought some pretty sad thoughts about me. Assuredly, they would be astounded that I finally found someone, moved on with my life."

"That bad, huh?" Teresa teased, making him chuckle.

"Yes", he said.

He took her to the market, next. They strolled around for a bit, sometimes stopping because Jane ran into someone who recognized him in spite of fresher clothes, a woman at his arm and a beard notwithstanding. When they went by a stand that sold fresh fruit, Teresa lit up and they ended up buying both strawberries and apples. When they reached the town fountain, they sat down, both crunching on their apples. They watched as the marketers started to pack up their things.

"It's time for their _siesta_", Jane explained.

With her head resting on his shoulder, Teresa barely managed to suppress a yawn. "How convenient", she said.

Jane kissed her temple. The pregnancy made her uncharacteristically tired, always yearning for a nap in the afternoon. A place where the whole village practiced _siesta_ suited her quite well, he reflected.

"Let's get you into bed", he said and she followed.

x x x

As soon as they were back at the king sized bed at their hotel, Lisbon fell asleep almost immediately, her hand tucked beneath her pillow and her knees curled up towards her chest. Jane went to open the door to the porch, leading out on a path to the beach where she had found him standing just a few hours before. He left it open to let them hear the comforting sounds of the ocean before he crawled into bed beside her. He lay on his back, rested a hand on the side of her stomach.

He stayed like that as she slept, thinking of time and Roger and endings.

After a while, Teresa stirred, interrupting his thoughts. "You're not sleeping", she observed, rolling around to face him.

"I'm not tired", he answered.

She reached out to touch his upper arm, squeezing it gently, blinking herself awake. "Are you okay?" she inquired, thinking of before and how this might be the better time. "With Roger and everything. You can talk to me, you know." For some reason, Lisbon always felt safe bringing up big, important things while lying beside him. With time, this feeling had evolved to include other places as well (porches and clearings overlooking ponds and cabins came to mind), but there was something about beds and Jane that made her feel like everything was okay, nothing off limits. In the first weeks of their relationship, they'd dealt with the most important talking while in bed. None of the hurt and blame and grief that was connected in her mind to moments with Jane pre-Florida included beds; those feelings were thankfully not mixed up with lying beside him, feeling his heart beat beneath her palm. Beds had always been safe. So she asked.

"I don't know, it's just-", he began, hesitating not because he couldn't tell her but because he hadn't yet sorted it through in his own mind just yet. He tried to make it up as he went, not wanting to brush off her concern. "Some things you just think is going to stay the same for ever." She looked at him, looking at the ceiling, thinking. She waited, playing with the buttons of his shirt absentmindedly.

"I guess I should know better but. He was always there. Always sitting by the bar, every day for two years", Jane said, trailed off, pausing, waiting. "It just took me by surprise, is all."

"Things aren't always going to stay the same", she said. "Maybe he's moved on to a better place."

"Yeah", Jane said. "Maybe."

"What was he like?" Lisbon wanted to know.

Unexpectedly, Jane smiled. "I have no idea. He wasn't much of a talker."

"But you talked?"

"Not really. He didn't, mostly. I don't know why. But he- ", Jane trailed off. "I felt as if he understood me, when I talked. He was English, so at least I gathered he did."

He took her hand from his shirt and held it in his. He tore away his eyes from the ceiling, looked at her and was profoundly grateful of everything she gave him every day.

"Being understood is an underrated pleasure, Teresa," he told her, very aware of the last time he uttered those exact words. The context was very different and he was very glad.

She felt relieved as she watched his eyes soften as they traced the features of her face. She missed his smile so she went on a mission to get it back, thinking of bright sides and promises. "It probably would've helped if you'd worked on your Spanish a bit more", she teased. "I think I'm better at Spanish than you are. And you lived here for two years, Jane."

She succeeded, he laughed. The sound was like soothing balm to her heart.

"You know, I _am_ self-taught. It's harder than one would think when there is no one around who knows English well enough to correct you in a language you understand", he bit back, grinning. "Now, imagine my great relief when Fischer showed up." It slipped out unintentionally, taking them both a bit by surprise. This was a subject they had yet not talked about, ever.

There was a beat.

"What was that like?" Teresa asked softly. "You were both pretty secretive whenever I would ask you about it, when you came back."

He hesitated, but only briefly. "She showed up at Alfredo's one day. She was the first American I met in a very long time. She was nice, made me talk about some things. I was pretty relieved, actually. It never even occurred to me that she'd have something to do with Abbott."

Teresa had understood as much; she remembered the not-so-frequently-seen surprise on his face, seeing Fischer at the FBI. What she didn't understand, though, was how they acted when Fischer supposedly had been just Kim. She wasn't completely sure she even wanted to know, but she still went on.

"Did something happen between you two?" she asked.

He decided to go with honesty. It had surely proved itself to be the most effective method in the past, had he finally had the courage to do so. "She asked me out to dinner, I-... I took off my ring."

This surprised her, her hand moved subconsciously to the golden object next to her mother's cross on the chain around her neck. She stayed quiet, wanting to hear him go on. "I wanted to see if I was ready. I wasn't, obviously."

"What happened?"

"We went out, had dinner, danced. I got embarrassingly drunk and passed out before anything else could happen." He left the part where he got beaten up out on purpose.

Teresa went quiet for a moment, considering things. "But you thought you might have been? Ready, I mean", she asked.

"Well, I certainly hoped", he answered. "As the evening progressed, though, I knew I wasn't." He hadn't been, not even remotely. It had just been so long and he'd hoped, so desperately hoped, that for once, he could be someone who took a pretty girl out to dinner and kissed her good night without any old but golden promises standing in his way. Patrick turned over Teresa's hand in his, which he was still holding, and traced the palm with his thumb.

"I couldn't fully admit it to myself at the time, but I desperately wished she would have been you."

His fingers moved up towards her face and he touched her cheek, brought her lips to his. He kissed her once, twice, softly. And then he kept talking, his voice low, steady, loving. She listened with all her heart.

"After that night, with Abbott trying to lure me back to the US, I suddenly knew I wanted to be with you. I wasn't clear on the how, at that moment, but at least I knew that every one I would ever meet would turn pale in comparison to you."

His gaze was piercing. He held her with all his strength, clear on the importance of this moment, this conversation. They were back where he had once started and he just wanted her to know, to understand that the intention had not ever been more distance when she was finally again within his reach. His courage had been severely lacking but he had _known_. And he wanted her to, too. "I didn't just want anybody. I really, really wanted you", he said.

Teresa blinked back a few tears that threatened to spill. "I kept wishing you'd ask me to come see you. I knew it'd be impossible, of course. But I still hoped", she wanted to tell him so she did, eyes still glassy. "I would've come."

"I couldn't do that to you. You deserved better", he said.

Teresa didn't bother to argue. Bright side, she reminded herself.

He was hers.

The past seemed insignificant compared to this fact.

"But we're here now", she said.

His apparent happiness at her words brightened the slowly darkening room. It was contagious.

"Yes."

"I am very happy that we are."

He kissed her, then.

"Me too", he murmured against her lips, agreeing with every fiber of his being. "Me too."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: This chapter jumps right into slight **M** territory – they _are_ newlyweds after all. I tried to keep it clean but if you're uncomfortable with reading about Jane and Lisbon having sex, skip the next six hundred words or so. I also apologize in advance for the extreme (hint!) corniness that lies ahead, especially with the last part of this chapter. I just couldn't resist. But as pictured on the show, Jane definitely isn't above ridiculously romantic gestures.

For the next chapter, I think the pregnancy needs to be further addressed. And if any of you have any specific places or people you think Jane and Lisbon would or should see when they're on the island, please let me know. Last but not least – thank you so very much to all of you who have reviewed, favorited and/or followed this little writing project of mine. You're all amazing.

x x x

Her skin felt as if it was on fire.

It was dark and night and quiet and her husband stood behind her, leaving no space whatsoever between his body and hers. He had her pressed against the door of their hotel room, his tongue against the side of her neck, pressing hot kisses everywhere, making it very hard for Teresa to concentrate, to keep her hands from shaking enough to unlock the door, to move them inside the privacy of their room.

"Jane", she breathed. "Stop that, I can't-"

Her words contradicted her movements; she turned her head sideways to grant him better access. She fumbled with the keys for a few moments longer before she relented with a grunt and turned herself around in his embrace so that she was facing him, her heaving chest against his. She watched him behind hooded lashes and put the keys in his hand.

"You do it", she said and he chuckled darkly, his voice laced with anticipation and promises. He managed to unlock it on his first try but didn't waste a second being smug, instead pulling her inside, shutting the door behind them. He pressed her against the door once again, this time however without risking to be caught by any fellow hotel guests. His hands were everywhere; moving up and down her arms, getting tangled in her hair, cupping her breasts. She gave back as good as she got, kissing him, her tongue moving against his.

He swiftly untied her wrap around dress, unwrapping her like a present until she was standing before him in only lace and silk. He paused for a moment, drinking in the sight of her until her impatience got the better of her and she pulled him under once again, kiss, kiss, kissing him. She pulled on his shirt, working on the buttons as he unclasped her bra, covered her breasts with his hands and rolled a peak between his fingers. She moaned and lost it then, needed to feel his skin against her. She gave up on the buttons, tugging his shirt off his shoulders anyhow. Buttons went flying; they scattered at their feet.

At the back of their minds, they vaguely registered the sound of his clothes tearing. Neither Jane nor Lisbon cared.

All she cared about was to hurry up with him getting his pants to come off; all he cared about was the purring sounds she did at the back of her throat.

Lisbon put her hands on his chest, pushed him backwards but followed immediately, moving them both towards the bed. She climbed on top of him, basked in the feeling of him pressed against her, pinning him to the bed. In a tangle of hands and tongues and moans and pleasure, Jane somehow managed to rid them of all their remaining pieces of clothing without Lisbon managing to register when and how and where.

It was very hard to focus when they were close and everything was hot and she was very much consumed by him.

He touched her and she was burning.

He moved inside her and she thought she might die, turned on to the point of no return.

His breath was hot against her ear, his breathing in sync with her rapidly beating heart. His hands followed a path over her chest, down, down, down and his fingertips left trails of fire in their wake. For a lucid moment, she thought she might never get used to how incredible this felt, how extraordinary they felt.

She came undone and he followed shortly after, crushing her with his weight, both of their breathing ragged.

Afterwards, he pulled the sheets up to cover their naked bodies. Snuggled against his chest, they were quiet for a while before she spoke. "Today was a very lovely day." Her words vibrated against his skin. "Thank you for bringing me here."

Jane hummed in agreement and kissed her hair. "Thank you", he said and emphasized the you. "I'll try my utmost to make tomorrow even better."

"Hmm?" Lisbon said, her eyelids dropping, beckoned by sleep, preventing her from making a more particular response. Jane envisioned the tomorrow before him for a moment, searching his memory palace for places where he'd fantasized about taking Teresa when she was impossibly out of his reach all those years ago. He smiled when he figured it out, knowing exactly where to take her the forthcoming night.

"If you're up to it," he said. "I think I want to take you dancing."

"Dancing?"

"Mhmm."

Lisbon forced herself to re-open her eyes, looked at him.

"I know this great place…" he trailed off, wriggling his eye brows. This earned him a crooked smile before she once again closed her eyes and snuggled into his side. "You take all the girls there?" she teased.

"Nope", he said, purposely forgetting. "Only very smart and very gorgeous women who I happen to be married to."

"Oh, _them_."

"Mhmm."

"Tomorrow," she promised, kissing his bare chest, a place right above his heart.

"Good night", he murmured.

x x x

In the morning, Jane ordered room service. Teresa had woken up before him - a very rare occurrence in their relationship - and when he'd discovered an empty bed when he'd been unconsciously reaching for her in his sleep, he'd stirred awake as well. He had found her in the ensuite bathroom, heaving up in the toilet. He'd held her hair through the nausea and afterwards, he took her back to bed. After a while, armed with the promise that he'd provide her breakfast, Teresa went back into the bathroom to take a shower. When the food arrived, Jane had time to set the table on the porch outside; their breakfast accompanied by the sounds of the ocean. He was reading a local newspaper as Teresa walked outside, wrapped in a hotel bathrobe, her feet bare. When he saw her, he looked up and gave her a smile - a concerned one, a little crooked, but a smile all the same.

"How are you feeling?" he asked as she sat down on the chair opposite him.

"I'm fine."

"You sure?" he asked.

"Yes, Jane. It's just morning sickness."

At this, his smile grew impossibly wide. He was still marvelling at what the morning sickness represented - _they were going to have a baby_ \- still completely astonished by this fact.

"You're hopeless", Teresa said.

"Hopelessly in love", Jane corrected.

Teresa answered with an eye-roll, instead reaching for the blueberries in the bowl in front of her. She did a quick scan over the breakfast food and stopped when her eyes reached the bear claws, somehow present on this island, and looked quizzically at him. When she asked him about how they got there, he wouldn't tell, insisting to keep at least some of the magic. They ate the rest of the breakfast mostly in silence, feasting on fresh fruit, toast and eggs. Lisbon took great pleasure in one of her favorite indulgences; no matter how it managed to get there, she was very pleased with her husband's efforts. When Lisbon were done, she sat back in her chair and gazed at him.

She pondered how the light made his curls even blonder and how she wanted to trace the lines of his face with her fingers.

Before she had time to register how completely lovestruck this made her seem and thereafter stop her wandering thoughts, he felt her gaze upon him and met her eyes with an amused sparkle.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing", she said and feigned innocence. Surely he didn't buy it for a second but didn't press, instead making a hmm-noise, turning his attention back to the daily news.

"So, have you decided on what's on the to-see-list today?" she asked, busying herself from more of her I'm-so-madly-in-love-with-my-husband-it's-getting-ridiculous-thoughts she'd been having a lot lately.

"Yes," he answered. "Seeing you in the little red dress I know you packed is definitely on there." His smile was teasing, his eyes bright.

"Be good", she warned but she matched his smile all the same.

"I'm always good. Very good, in fact", he answered, his voiced low and dark and laced with innuendo.

She rolled her eyes but her smile was far from fading, countering any effect the eye-roll might have.

"What else?" she asked.

"Hmm," he hummed. "I'm thinking we should pay my dear Victor a visit."

"Victor?" she asked, trying to remember, mentally scanning his letters she once made a unconscious mission to try to know by heart. "Is he the one working at the hotel near your apartment?"

"Mm, no", Jane answered. "That's Franklin. We should definitely visit him too, though. He'd be very glad to meet you in person, I'm sure."

"He knows who I am?"

"Yes."

"You talked about me?"

"I did."

"Well, what did you say?"

He folded his read newspaper and put it on the table before he answered. "Obviously, I couldn't tell anyone where exactly I'd been or what I'd done but…" he trailed off. "There was a special someone I was very keen on talking about, especially on my low days."

"Oh?" Her smile was blinding. The thought of her having such an impact on him, even thousands and thousands miles away, was mind-blowing still.

He reached past their already eaten breakfast food and took her hand.

"I missed you", he stated, simply, honestly.

His gaze was intense. She brought his fingers up to her mouth and kissed his knuckles, words suddenly insufficient.

"So, Victor?" she asked after a while, breaking the silence.

"Victor", Jane replied. "Ah, yes. He was my tailor", he explained and Teresa nodded, remembering then. "Conveniently enough, I do have a shirt that needs to be fixed", he said, smiling as they both recalled the previous night.

"You probably shouldn't mention how it got torn though", she said, eyes sparkling.

"Why Agent Lisbon, I was thinking that should be your opening line."

"What a way to make me popular among your island friends, huh?"

He only grinned.

x x x

They ended up not telling Victor how Jane's shirt got torn, instead chatting away about what'd happened since they'd seen each other last, local sightseeing spots and how _charreteras_ still wasn't in fashion (Victor at least partially caved when Teresa finally gave her input). The older man was partly ecstatic, partly surprised about their marriage and pregnancy - just like pretty much everyone else of Jane's old acquaintances on the island.

He managed to fix Jane's shirt up pretty easily, insisting that they would keep him company while he worked. Jane and Lisbon did not need much convincing; very much enjoying the newly installed air condition Victor's work shop provided. When it was time to go, Jane got back his shirt - all buttons now firmly in place - and Victor was thanked with a hand shake a generous tip.

"_Tu eres un hombre muy amable, señor Jane_", Victor complimented him as he shook Jane's hand.

Jane and Lisbon bid their goodbyes, walking outside in the hot South American sun. They strolled for a while, soon within the reach of the ocean. Lisbon kept fidgeting with her clothes, obviously uncomfortable in the heat.

"Ugh", Lisbon complained, tugging at her blouse which kept sticking to her skin. "Does it not ever stop being hot around here?"

"It never gets cold, not really, no."

When they reached the warm sand, they stopped for a moment and took off their shoes.

"I thought you were used to it by now. All those years in California. Texas gets pretty hot, too", Jane said.

"This is nothing like that at all", Teresa argued. "This is just _suffocating_. How did you manage for so long?"

Jane shrugged. "You get used to it. And the sarong helped."

"Excuse me?"

"A sarong. A length of fabric, wrapped around the waist."

"I know what a sarong is, Jane. I just… You wore one?"

"I did," Jane confirmed. "What?"

"Huh", she said and went quiet, trying to mentally picture her three-piece-suit wearing husband in a sarong. She couldn't, not really. "I just can't picture it, is all. Before Florida, I'd never seen you in something beside your suit. The thought of you in a sarong is just…" She stopped, looked at him sideways with a amused expression on her face and grinned. "It seems your sense of fashion really dropped a few levels, living on this island. Really, Jane? A sarong?"

He chuckled. "I'll have you know, it's very comfortable."

"If you say so."

With a gleam in her eyes - definitely in a better mood than before - she moved her hands from her waist, moving upwards, bringing the hem of her blouse along with her fingers. Bit by bit, she unraveled milky white skin and he drank in the sight of her.

Her stomach barely hinted there was a baby inside, alive and growing, but Jane noticed the change immensely, basking in the fact.

Lisbon kept moving her fingers upwards until she tugged her shirt off completely, leaving on a dark purple bikini top. She started unbuttoning her shorts.

Jane cleared his throat, not trusting his voice completely. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"We just established that it's hot", she answered. "I'm taking my clothes off."

"Here?"

She looked at him amusedly. "We're on a beach, Jane."

She found the brown paper bag Victor had provided them with and grabbed hold of Jane's shirt. She slipped it on and the fabric was cool against her skin.

"Much better", she said.

"Mmm."

She pulled on its hem; it reached her thighs. She left it unbuttoned, argued with herself that it still covered enough while it was still far less sticky than her own clothes. "I think I might keep this", she said to him. "As a souvenir and everything."

As a reply, he smiled lovingly at her and Teresa thought about how it was a smile she'd lately found was reserved only for her.

Then he leaned in to kiss her and she didn't think much at all.

x x x

Jane and Lisbon spent the rest of the afternoon at the beach before retreating to their hotel, Teresa insisting she was very much craving a very cold, very long shower. As she took her time in the bathroom, Jane lounged on the bed, watching some mindless Spanish comedy he only understood parts of. Jane eventually heard the water being turned off, the sounds of the hair dryer being used, Teresa humming to herself which he knew she did as she put her make up on. Soon, she walked out of the bathroom wearing the red dress Jane had mentioned earlier. When she watched his mouth fall slightly open, she wore a coy expression on her face.

"Hi", she said and made her way over to the bed.

"You're gorgeous", he said when she sat down next to where he was lying. She leaned in for a quick kiss.

"Are you ready to go?"

Jane merely nodded.

Mastering self-control and tricks of biofeedback, he managed to not give in to his desire and keep her to himself all night, but made right on his promise to take her dancing.

Firstly, however, he felt obligated to feed them both. He took her to a local restaurant they'd thought looked good as they'd previously walked past it on their way to the beach, that afternoon. All through dinner, Jane kept them entertained by cold reading their fellow dining guests.

"You see that woman over there? A single mother, partly enjoying her dinner and partly resenting it, very anxious to get home and make sure the babysitter hasn't completely messed up her baby."

"Or she's just a woman who's too lazy to cook at home and came her to enjoy other people doing it for her, anxious because of the weather or her parents or something else entirely", Lisbon countered, challenging him.

Jane pondered this for a moment. "Mm. Could be. Very astute, Lisbon."

"You're admitting you might be wrong?"

"Meh", he answered.

"You are", Lisbon said. "I think the island air might be good for you, turning down your ego just a notch."

He took a swig of his beer Lisbon insisted he would indeed drink except him offering not to for her sake, failing to hide his grin. He could never be enough grateful about how she kept him on his toes every day while still being his one haven, the one place where he would feel completely like himself, without any desire to show off or mess around. She was made up of a set of his favorite contradictions; strong but fragile, feisty but gentle, someone he knew everything about but still managed to surprise him like no one else ever could.

She was bewildering and dazzling and only his.

"You're staring", Teresa pointed out.

"Just admiring the view", he replied. "You really do look beautiful tonight."

She didn't blush as he'd half-expected her to, but held his gaze instead, smiling sweetly. "You're not too bad yourself."

Love and lust mingled together in the air; it touched them both.

"You ready?" she asked, nodding at his empty plate.

"Mm."

She met his eyes. "Dance with me?"

And so he did, able to deny her nothing.

He took her to the bar he once danced with Fischer but didn't think about it for a second. His attention was solely focused upon the love of his life, moving her lithe body against his. He swirled them around and tried to keep a minimum of space between them at all times.

They were sweaty and breathless and very much in love.

At some point, Jane half-yelled in her ear that he'd be right back and went to get them something to drink, to cool themselves off with. He came back with two bottles of water and it tasted wonderfully.

Suddenly, the upbeat music faded out and some very familiar tunes started playing. When Teresa recognized the song, she raised her eyebrows and looked at him with a dumbstruck expression on her face; partly shocked, partly amazed at what he'd obviously also had done as he were off getting them drinks.

"No, you didn't", she raised her voice slightly.

He replied with smiling softly back at her.

"You love this song", he simply stated as if it was enough of a reason. She couldn't believe he remembered.

He took the bottle from her hand and put it down at a nearby table. Then he took her hand, drawing her close, nuzzled her hair.

He swayed them slowly on the dance floor and she rested her head against his shoulder as Extreme's number one hit song played in the background.

"I love you so much", she murmured.

"Love you", he told her and held her close.

They kept on dancing and Teresa couldn't swipe the smile off her face, ever astounded of how he'd supposedly made it his mission in life to manipulate the world around them only to make her happy.


End file.
